


Curiosity killed the cat

by Iforgotmyformerusername



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Malcolm Bright Whump, Whump, basically the junkyard scene in episode 7 but with the whump we deserve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 11:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21493774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iforgotmyformerusername/pseuds/Iforgotmyformerusername
Summary: The stranger took a step to the left and Malcolm tensed, ready to run after him the moment he took off. He wasn’t in peak condition but he had always been a fast runner, that would be his advantage here. But the man didn’t run. Within the blink of an eye there was a gun in his hand and he was firing it straight at Malcolm.-What if Paul had been a little bit better at aiming?
Comments: 41
Kudos: 311





	Curiosity killed the cat

**Author's Note:**

> This scene had so much whump potential that they didn't use. It's a crime, really.

His own safety hadn’t even crossed his mind when he decided to follow a strange noise in what he had previously thought to be an empty junkyard in the middle of the night. It probably should have, given the circumstances, but the only thing making the decision for him was his need for answers and clarification. He had just found the old car he and his father had used on their camping trip all those years ago. He had also found all the traces of blood in the trunk.

His flashlight illuminated the road as he made his way into the direction of the noise he had heard, his footsteps sounding impossibly loud in the silence of the night. It could’ve been just a stray cat of course, in which case he had nothing to fear. But if it was someone sniffing around… They might know more.

He rounded a corner and slowed down as the silhouette of a man came into view. The stranger stood at the far end of the path wearing what looked to be a mechanics clothing. But what would a mechanic be doing here at this time of day?

“Hey!” Malcolm called out. He didn’t actually expect an answer but hoped for a reaction of some sort all the same. “Is this your junkyard?”

The stranger took a step to the left and Malcolm tensed, ready to run after him the moment he took off. He wasn’t in peak condition but he had always been a fast runner, that would be his advantage here. But the man didn’t run. Within the blink of an eye there was a gun in his hand and he was firing it straight at Malcolm. The profiler hadn’t even had the chance to process the sudden change of events when the first bullet ripped through his shoulder, leaving a burning pain behind. His surprised scream echoed through the junkyard and Malcolm dove to the side behind a car wreck instinctively.

What the hell??

Blood flowed through his fingers quickly as he pressed a shaking hand against the wound. He wasn’t given a lot of time to think, the loud clangs of the bullets hitting the metal frames around him sounded uncomfortably close. With his injured arm to his chest Malcolm crawled back as quick as he could. His breath was falling short and when a bullet missed his head by inches he sagged through the arm holding him up with a surprised gasp.

Biting through the pain he managed to drag himself behind a metal beam. It would only offer protection for as long as the man stayed where he was but the only other suitable hiding spot he could see was across the road, he’d have to run straight through the line of fire for that.

Just as he was contemplating if it was worth it the last bullet destroyed a headlight just inches left of where he sat and it went quiet. After handful of silent seconds his curiosity won over his fear -as it so often did lately- and Malcolm carefully peaked his head out from his hiding place. He could just make out the silhouette of the man walking away in the opposite direction.

Relief washed over him as he sat back against the metal. That, he thought trying to get his breathing back under control, could’ve ended badly.

He pressed a shaky hand against the wound in his shoulder and grit his teeth to not cry out again as white hot pain flared up. Warm blood oozed through his fingers in a steady pace. Steady and flowing, which meant the blood was coming from the veins, the artery in his shoulder hadn’t been hit. He had been lucky, just a few inches lower and he would’ve bled out within a few minutes. This should buy him at least a couple more.

Trying not to jostle his arm too much he shifted his legs underneath him and pushed himself up, leaning on the beam beside him for balance. He needed to get back to his car, this had to get stitched up as soon as.

Shrugging out of his coat with the state his left arm was in was a no-go, so he just pulled his right arm through the sleeve and bundled the rest together to press against the wound firmly. The pain spread out through his entire torso as he did so, white spots danced across his vision and the metallic taste in his mouth told him he was biting his lip a little too hard. For one moment the world disappeared and he was weightless. But then his knees hit the ground and the shock of falling shook him out of his trance.

A gasp. _Focus_.

He needed to focus.

In and out, keep breathing now, in and out.

The world was slowly righting itself and after another deep breath he pressed the coat against the wound again, a little more gradually this time. He rose to his feet. If he kept a firm pressure on the wound he would be okay, there was time still.

One part of his brain screamed at him to call someone, he was _shot_ for crying out loud. Even if he did get to the car he wouldn’t be able to drive like this. But the other voice told him he had gotten through more injuries on his own in the past, he could handle this as well. He didn’t presume to have enough heart -or a steady enough hand for that matter- to make the stitches himself but he’d cross that bridge when he got to it.

He started the walk back to where he thought he had come from. Calling an ambulance hardly even crossed his mind. Those were reserved for those who were actually in need of one, not to be wasted on a drive he could make himself. He really did want to call Gil though, just to calm his nerves a bit by talking to the man, hearing his voice. But Gil would immediately know something was wrong and he had already been enough of a nuisance to him the past few days, weeks. He really didn’t want to bother the lieutenant any more than he already did. Besides, he got it covered. He got this.

Hadn’t he seen this red rusty car here before? Shit, why was this junkyard such a maze. And he couldn’t remember if he had seen the car on his way into here or just now. How long had he walked around? Two minutes, three? Maybe already 5. Either way, he should’ve found his way back by now. It didn’t help that the world was dark and blurry and that his limbs were getting heavier by the minute.

With a spark of fear he realised he was losing his grip on consciousness. But he was still pressing his coat against the wound firmly and he _knew_ he still had a bit of time before he’d pass out from blood loss. Had he hit his head? Gotten even less sleep last night than usual?

Focus. Breathe.

The exit is over there, he could see it now. Remember the way he walked towards his father’s old car. He traced his steps, stumbling and staggering, until eventually he reached the exit and his car a few feet down the empty street.

He was breathing hard again and squatted in front of the door on the drivers side for a minute, his head resting against the cool material. Despite the cold his eyes were fluttering shut and he had to remind himself to stay awake. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to admit it to himself, but realistically Malcolm knew there was no way he could drive like this. He’d be a danger to everyone on the streets.

Taking a shaky breath -why couldn’t he stop shaking- he turned around and sat down with his back against the car. He didn’t have a choice, he had thought he’d still have enough energy to make the drive home or to the ER or wherever, but his chest was heaving and with each breath the motion pulled at his shoulder, sending new waves of pain searing through him. He had to call Gil.

His left arm was entirely numb and as he dropped the fabric of the now blood-soaked coat to search for his phone he was painfully aware of how fast the coat had become drenched and how quickly the blood could now freely flow from the wound. Nicked the artery after all then? No, he wouldn’t still be here if he had. The brachial artery was one of the major arteries in the human body- no, stop, now was not the time for a flashback to his father’s study room. He shook his head to focus on the task at hand, there wasn’t much time left.

The blood made his fingers slick and slippery and if the situation had been less dire he would’ve long thrown his phone against the wall in frustration with how long it took to even unlock the stupid thing. When he finally found Gil’s number he put the speaker on, dropping the phone on the ground in front of him so he could press his coat against the wound again. The pain was starting to make his stomach turn but he closed his eyes and focused on breathing through it.

After several long seconds Gil picked up the phone and Malcolm couldn’t resist a sigh of relief.

“Bright? What’s up?”

“Gil,” his voice was raspy and he hoped it would be loud enough to be picked up by the phone on the ground. “Gil, I need help.”

Gil’s voice immediately turned concerned and Malcolm could hear the scratching sound of a chair shoved aside. “What happened, where are you?”

“Junkyard,” Malcolm croaked out, “in the Bronx. I got-” Oh gods, the man would never let him out of his sight again after this, would it be enough if he just said hurt and stayed vague?

“_Bright?_”

“…got shot.”

“Shot?! How did- never mind, I’m on my way. How bad is it?”

“Caught me in the shoulder, just…” He had to keep breathing. “Losing a bit of blood.”

A bit was an understatement if his energy levels were anything to go by. His eyelids were getting heavier by the minute and now that he had told Gil of his location and predicament his resolve to stay awake was crumbling fast.

“Did you call an ambulance?” Gil asked through the phone, but answered his own question before Malcolm had the chance to. “Of course you didn’t. You keep pressure on that wound you hear me?”

Malcolm hummed in agreement but then saw with the slightest spark of surprise that his right arm had dropped in his lap next to his left, the coat lying useless on the ground. Well, keeping the pressure hadn’t done much good anyway, it hadn’t helped him drive home as he had thought it would. And it hurt far less this way.

“_Malcolm?_” Oh, Gil was still talking. “Say something kid, you still with me?” He sounded desperate and Malcolm felt a pang of guilt at making him feel bad.

“Sorry.” His voice was little more than a whisper now, most likely not even reaching the man on the other side of the line. He tried to keep his mind on the conversation and what Gil was saying, he really did, but Malcolm kept zoning out and eventually had to stop listening altogether. The minutes flew by in a blur and when a heavy hand fell on his good shoulder his eyes shot open in surprise. When had he closed them?

“Hey kid. How are you holding up?”

The warm flood of relief in his chest was overwhelming. Gil was here, it was going to be okay. He cracked out a smile and lifted his hand to grab the sleeve of the lieutenant’s jacket, trying to convey an emotion he couldn’t find the words for. Luckily the man understood him all too well.

“Don’t worry, I’m not leaving you. You’re going to be okay. Let’s try to stop the bleeding a bit hm? Give the paramedics an easier job.”

Malcolm only nodded and watched as Gil took what looked like a scarf he had taken with him and pushed it against the wound. The profiler couldn’t stop the low moan uttered through gritted teeth.

“I know it hurts kid, I know. Think you can sit upright for me for a second?”

Malcolm pushed himself off against the car with the little strength he had left, Gil’s gentle hands helping him the rest of the way and allowing him to lean against the man’s shoulder.

“Looks like the bullet went through and through.” Gil said while wrapping the scarf around the back of the injured shoulder and securing it underneath Malcolm’s arm. “This won’t be enough but it’ll hold until the ambulance arrives.”

Through and through huh? Malcolm laughed dryly as Gil helped him sit back against the car again. “So that’s, that’s why… less time. I’m... an idiot.” He was slurring and aware of it. Not too long left then. The thought filled him with pang of sadness he hadn’t expected. He frowned.

“I don’t.. I don’t want to die.”

It was more a surprised revelation than anything else but for some reason Gil looked at him with the same sadness reflected in his eyes. “I know kid.” He said softly. “I know. The ambulance should be here soon, just hang in there.”

But Malcolm had been holding on for so long already, his eyes were falling shut again and this time he didn’t have the motivation or energy to fight it. His body was straining to keep him alive but it was struggling and exhausted. It had been enough.

A hand caught his head as gravity was starting to pull it down. “Bright! Open your eyes kid, come on.”

Malcolm’s last thought before everything went black was how much he disliked hearing Gil so desperate.

* * *

Consciousness was still far away but already Malcolm realised he was waking up without having had a nightmare this night. Which was a strange but nonetheless welcome occurrence. Whatever he had done to fall asleep last night was clearly worth repeating.

Waking up was going abnormally slow however and the time spend in this half awake half asleep state was frightening him. The fact that he hadn’t had any nightmares didn’t mean they couldn’t still come. He _had_ to wake up. Before they returned. He fought and fought through the haze and the fog and slowly but surely light spilled in from underneath opening eyelids. The bright light was hurting his eyes but Malcolm found he didn’t care, the discomfort would help him stay awake.

There was a rustle to his right and the sound of something dropped onto a table. “Bright?”

He turned to see Dani making her way over to sit in the chair closest to him. Why was she here? Wasn’t he at home?

“They said you would be out for a couple more hours at the very least. Guess there’s really no keeping you asleep huh?” Her voice was light but Malcolm could hear the worried undertone.

“They?” He asked, his mouth too dry to form the complete sentence.

“The doctors.” Dani answered. “You’re in the hospital Bright, do you remember what happened?”

Hospital? He didn’t like hospitals, they always…

They always trapped him in his nightmares.

His breath hitched in his throat and suddenly all the traces of sleep left his mind. A glance at his right hand confirmed his fears, and without wasting even half a second he reached for the IV in his hand. It needed out, now, before he was trapped again. But the muscles in his left arm protested, making the movement sluggish and just a little too slow. Before he could grab the needle to pull it out Dani was already holding his hands back.

“Bright, don’t touch that.”

She didn’t understand though, he couldn’t go back to his night terrors. He didn’t know how he had fought through the sedation the first time but he was awake now and it had to stay that way.

“Bright!” Dani hissed as he struggled to get his hands out of her grasp. He got his right hand free eventually and with his left still stuck he brought it to his mouth to get the IV out with his teeth.

“Hey, stop!” Once again it was caught before he could get it and vaguely he wondered why his left arm wasn’t contributing to the cause as much as he wanted it to.

“Dani I can’t go back, I can’t- Please!”

Before he could persuade her to let him go the door of the room swung open and Gil walked into the room. As soon as he saw what was going on he just about dropped the two steaming cups he had been holding onto the table and made his way over to the bed quickly.

Dani had taken advantage of Malcolm’s distraction to secure her grip on his wrists. She shot Gil a look. “He’s trying to rip his IV out.”

Understanding dawned on the lieutenant’s face. “Ah.”

“Gil please, I need to be able to wake up, they-”

Gil put his hands up in a calming gesture. “Bright, listen. There are no sedatives in there. I’ve already spoken to the doctors and made them promise not to put you on any sleeping drugs. It’s just some painkillers and fluids you need in order to recover, so you’re going to need to leave it alone alright?”

No sedatives? Malcolm looked at his hand with the needle that once brought him so much despair. Dani’s grip on his wrists was soft but unrelenting, he wouldn’t get it out even if he tried. And if Gil said he would be fine…

“Do you trust me?”

His head shot up to look at the man who had saved his life in more ways than one. Gil wouldn’t lie to him. Not over something like this. “I do.” He said, relaxing his arms and breathing in deeply. “Thank you for telling them.”

That earned him a smile. “Of course.”

Seeing the panic had passed Dani released his wrists with a loud sigh. “Warn me next time before you try to ruin your own hand for nothing will you? And right after JT left too, he would’ve loved this.” She clenched and unclenched her hands. “Who knew you’d still be so strong with one arm half useless.”

About that… Malcolm turned his head to look at the bandage wrapped around his shoulder. Red was slowly starting to spread through it, staining the shirt he wore over it.

“I got shot.” He murmured. If his memory was anything to go by he had to be glad they kept him on painkillers.

“Yeah, you did.” Dani affirmed, turning his attention back to her. She gestured at his shoulder. “I’ll go get a nurse to get that cleaned up, looks like you managed to open the wound again.”

He shot her a smile. “Thank you.”

When she had disappeared through the door Gil sat down in the chair Dani had occupied earlier. “Can you remember what happened?”

Malcolm closed his eyes. “It’s starting to come back. I never got a good look at the guy. He didn’t even say anything, just started waving his gun around like some maniac.”

“What were you doing there in the first place?”

“I- ah, it’s kind of a long story.” One he didn’t currently have the strength for to tell, the struggle with Dani had robbed him of the little energy he had just gotten back.

“Got anything to do with your father by chance?” Malcolm looked at him and nodded dimly. Luckily Gil could see the signs of fatigue in him from a mile away and didn’t push. He put a hand on Malcolm’s good shoulder. “Try to get some more sleep, we can talk more about what happened later.”

“Will you wake me up if…”

He didn’t even need to finish his sentence. Gil nodded and squeezed his shoulder gently. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on you. First signs of a nightmare and I’ll wake you up immediately.”

Malcolm closed his eyes again and sighed. “Thanks Gil. For getting me out.”

He didn’t see the soft smile tugging at Gil’s lips. “Anytime. It’s good to have you back kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> With every first fic in a new fandom it's always the question if I got the voices of the characters right. I hope I did!  
Kudos and comments make me one very happy whumper :)


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